


Angel of Swords

by KisekiMa



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dark, Epic Battles, Fuyuki will burn, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm going to break the rules, Medical Experimentation, Mental Health Issues, Merlin Alter - kind of, Rin is here to suffer, SOLDIER Shirou, Sakura will get a very unusual friend, Servant Sephiroth, Shirou is so broken, Trauma, Warning - Hojo, but Gareth will try to fix it, master Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KisekiMa/pseuds/KisekiMa
Summary: Shirou was saved from the great fire… by a mad scientist, who wants to turn him into a vessel for his greatest creation.Only a certain incarnated Caster knows what is coming and does everything he can to stop it - even if that includes irreversible damage to the Grail.(also: SOLDIER Shirou is so broken, but his Servant will try to fix it)
Kudos: 15





	Angel of Swords

I no longer have memories of my past. The only thing I remember is the sight of flames, as far as the eye can see. The stench of fear, death and burnt flesh. And the childish wish to be saved.

I got what I deserved.

I remember that man, leaning above me, but the view was blurred by ashes and smoke. His gaze from behind the thick eyeglasses was full of not well-hidden delight. Like if he'd just found a new toy.

For that brief moment, I felt important. Like if saving me had a deeper meaning. Like if my pathetic, slowly fading life was worth something.

Then came the pain. Monotone beeping of cold machinery. Needles. More needles. And the endless green, burning my weak body both from the inside and the outside.

If this was the price… It was fine.

**"I made you, boy. Never forget that you belong to me."**

How could I ever forget? Every single procedure, every second of this man's time gave me worth. Changed me into something so different from that scared, hopeless child from ten years ago. Into something useful.

It was the meaning behind my survival I so desperately searched for.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the main event!"

Professor Hojo really hated this part of his new life as an independent researcher. It was probably the only reason he missed Shinra – most of the time they just gave him money and let him do his job. But here, in this weird, pathetic world, he needed to gather founds all by himself. Well, almost. He wouldn't go far without his latest creation.

Willingly or not, Shirou was a magnet for investors.

From his usual point Professor could observe both the audience and the scene at the same time. His guests valued privacy, so their seats were surrounded by comfortable darkness. Most of the visitors chose to wear masks and ostentatiously ignore each other's presence.

It was a rare occasion to meet government representatives, army, secret organizations, spoiled rich people and common criminals gathered in one place. Hojo could already see the greed in their eyes. It was… bearable, as long as it kept his workshop going.

The announcer went silent at last and a single reflector illuminated the centre of the scene, behind layers of strengthened, bulletproof glass. The main attraction entered the circle of light – a young red-haired man, probably around seventeen years old, dressed in something similar to a black battle uniform and armed with a simple longsword.

The scientist winced at the wave of agitated whispers among the audience. It was always the same meaningless babbling...

"Look at his eyes! Such a weird shade of blue!"

"It's just a normal teenager."

"He's too tall for his age, if you ask me..."

Hojo almost rolled his eyes. The boy looked like a living weapon, nothing more and nothing less. His stance was perfect, alert but not tensed. Professor personally took care of Shirou's diet, so there was no gram of fat on this slim body, only perfectly shaped, not oversized muscles. And the characteristic blue gleam in his eyes was just a side effect of mako infusions.

As his maker, Hojo knew everything about this specimen, from cellular structure to battle tactics. He wasn't surprised that the boy did not even reach for a weapon, when first enemies entered the scene.

His opponents might look like machines - two four-legged, shaped like really big guard dogs, and one flying, equipped with a machine gun – but the technology of this world wasn't yet advanced enough to produce something this complex. They were golems, constructs powered by magical core and disguised as machines to fool oblivious observers. Professor had a special deal with their maker, beneficial for both sides, despite the fact he couldn't really treat mages seriously.

They were so proud of their 'secret arts', to the point it resembled a creepy cult. Ridiculous! Their beloved 'magic' and 'miracles' had nothing mystical in them, were just a form of energy manipulation. Conscious and passed on in genes, but nothing more than energy manipulation! Hojo would proove this theory already, if he only had a good material to work with…

Rumbling noises of gunfire brought the scientist back to reality. With a weird smirk, he watched how the perfectly calm boy leisurely dodged the missiles and jumped.

No normal person, even a trained warrior, could jump so high. But Shirou did, grabbed the still shooting enemy by its metal wing and tossed the construct to the ground.

The guests stopped breathing for a moment, staring blankly at the burning hole in the floor and scattered remnants of the machine. Shirou turned gracefully in the air and fell on the nearest dog golem, using the gravity boost to smash its skull with one powerful kick.

The last remaining enemy charged at the boy, trying to jump at his back and sink fangs into his neck. Shirou was faster – he intentionally fell to his knees and rolled on the ground to shake off the attacker. In the next second, the boy was already towering over the immobilized golem, crushing its throat with a heavy boot.

As if this wasn't enough of a show-off from Hojo's side, the last opponent entered the scene. It was a huge construct, covered entirely in metal armor. In more or less humanoid shape, it had many long 'arms' and every single one of them was a different weapon. Blades, guns, chains… all of this ready to cut the boy into pieces.

Shirou didn't look impressed, but he finally reached for the sword and started moving. Fast and precise, he was circling around the enemy, searching for openings in its defense. Every swing of the blade meant another mechanical limb cut off and hopelessly hitting the floor.

All observers familiar with the art of war already realized that the kid didn't really have to do this. He just showed them that he could and prolonged the fight for theirs, not his own satisfaction.

The last attack was so fast the guests barely noticed the movement of the blade. Shirou was already few meters back, slowly sheathing his sword, when the golem, sliced in half, shattered into dust and pieces of metal junk.

Unnatural silence filled the room for a long, tense moment. Then someone clapped shyly in the third row of seats. The rest followed and soon an avalanche of applause fell on Shirou's head. He accepted them reluctantly, with no particular interest or emotions in his sky-blue eyes.

Hojo knew what will happen next – stream of orders, mostly to enhance personal bodyguards of some disgustingly influential people. Professor secretly despised his clients for not understanding the true meaning of his work. All he did for the last ten years was for science, for a purpose far more important than this petty spectacle. The boy was a precious vessel, not a clown to perform tricks on the scene.

"It is time," Hojo decided, pleased by Shirou's progress during last months. "You may come and claim him as your puppet. He's ready."

* * *

A lone man was gazing at the moon on the sacred grounds of the Ryuudou Temple. He smiled gently, totally relaxed, letting the wind play with his incredibly long hair.

People used to call him the Mage of Flowers, as countless plants appeared under his feet with every step… But he changed a lot, not only physically, after his Servant manifestation had been affected by the Grail's mud ten years ago.

With his real body trapped in Avalon, Merlin was a special case, nearly impossible to be summoned to a Grail War… unless he really wanted to participate in one. And now, as a result of a series of unfortunate events, one of his manifestations existed as a fully-fledged material avatar, not only a mere projection.

Since the accident, he came to the mountain regularly, to bath in a steady flow of local leylines. Not that his incarnated body still needed to be fed with magical energy, but it was recommended to keep his enormous circuits in good condition. Especially now, when the next war was about to start.

In this place Caster felt even stronger connection to the Grail, so he could tell that the preparations came to an end. Masters had been chosen, some Servants had been already summoned. And Merlin intended to observe their battles, just as he observed clouds, birds and the moon - with distant admiration.

The wind stopped suddenly and everything touched by magic in the entire Fuyuki froze in anticipation. Or maybe in fear?

Something was soaring above the city, like a hunting owl, searching for something. A cold, inhuman consciousness, diffused but still overwhelming. It was circling for a moment near the Fuyuki Central Park, probably attracted by its dark aura of death and despair.

But then it stopped, like if something under the mountain piqued its attention.

 _The Grail_ , Caster realized with raising uneasiness. _It wants to use the Grail_.

What for? Probably to gain a real, breathing body. Feeling a powerful murderous intent in the air, the mage was strangely sure it wasn't a good idea. Whatever this otherworldly entity truly was, it shouldn't be allowed to materialize here.

But what Caster could really do to prevent it? How to stop a potential enemy, who resembled more a wraith or a memory than living creature?

The mage smiled to himself, struck by a sudden idea. The Grail of Fuyuki was just a system. If Merlin learnt anything useful in these modern times, it was that all systems can be hacked.

"Well, maybe I can't really stop you... But I may force you to materialize on my terms. You want a vessel so desperately? Fine, I'll give you one."

Actually, it wasn't fine. Caster knew that it won't really solve the problem, but couldn't do anything about it. The willpower of this new, unknown enemy was frightening. If the mage wanted to fight, he needed to weaken it first.

Having no time to waste, he hastily scribbled the summoning circle on the ground. The unknown entity was already forcing its way to the Grail's core, so all Merlin had to do was to… redirect it to his own liking.

His closeness to the Grail helped a lot, but the core still activated its defense mechanisms. When Caster finally broke through and analyzed the data, he frowned in surprise. It seemed that the Grail recognized the intruder as a hero, at least a former one. His status as neither dead nor alive was the first serious obstacle.

But Merlin already knew how to deal with that – after all, he forced the system to summon a part of himself in the past. Repeating the procedure was not truly difficult.

Now the system desperately tried to assign the Servant candidate into categories. It seemed totally random at first: Alien, Divine, Phantasmal. Merlin pushed them all back, squeezed with his own magic and put forcefully into the most fitting and less dangerous type: Monster.

Disturbing as it might seem, this was something the Evils inside the Grail accepted without a blink.

Only one serious obstacle remained – a silly rule, taking its origin from the beliefs of this Grail's makers. They wanted to create a miracle, so they turned to religious beliefs from the West. Thus the summoning system did not allow heroes from other regions – not to mention other worlds – enter the war.

This was the last wall that separated Merlin from his goal. He needed to crush it by sheer force.

"Come on, come on, come on…!"

Slow, painfully slow. Like if more than one consciousness was trying to rewrite the rules. Caster pushed harder. Again. And once more. It felt like trying to dig through a rock with a wooden spoon.

After an agonizingly long while, the Grail accepted new patterns and launched the summoning process.

_It's now or never then!_

"For the elements, silver and iron…"

The magical energy was humming loudly inside the circle. If Merlin was to describe the aura of his Servant-to-be as a type of music, he would think about military march mixed with a really creepy waltz… with a terrified choir, begging for mercy in the background.

 **_Burning inside with violent anger. Monster. Empty. Sadness and anger_ ** **.**

Considering the traits given by the Grail to this raging spirit, Merlin was truly happy that a Berserker had been already summoned. Controlling such entity, stubborn and unwilling to cooperate, would be insanely difficult even without Mad Enhancement. Other fitting classes were Saber and Caster, but the mage didn't want to deal with that either.

"My will creates your body and your sword creates my destiny.

If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me!"

Merlin couldn't hold a sad smile at the irony of those words. He was never fond of spells and formulas, but it somehow hit the spot, describing perfectly what he was trying to do.

"I hereby swear…  
That I shall be all the good in the world.  
That I shall defeat all evil in the world."

The magic burst around him in cacophony of sounds. It suddenly got darker, when the full moon disappeared behind a curtain of clouds and suspicious shadows.

"Come forth from the circle of binding, Guardian of the Scales!"

Red pattern of Command Spells burnt the skin on Caster's right forearm, but he barely even noticed. The ritual was successful and drained a vast amount of magical energy from Merlin's circuits. Panting and sweating, he still needed to focus, if he intended to survive the first meeting with the monster he'd just summoned. Killing attempts were not uncommon among forcefully materialized Servants, and this one had a good reason to hate Caster for messing with his plans…

Shadows and black feathers filled the summoning circle and everything went silent for a while. Then something cracked terribly under the Ryuudou Temple, bending trees and scaring sleeping birds.

"Oh, dear." Merlin wasn't really in a mood for jokes. He slowly stepped back, trying to get out of range of his Servant's sword. "I think I've just broken the Grail."

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going to be dark. I mean it. I'm going to break the rules. Fuyuki will burn.
> 
> Many thanks to Omega Sanction for help with choosing the cast and for the general idea of this version of Shirou.  
> As always, I own nothing but my terrible writing.
> 
> I'm really curious to know what You think, so don't hesitate to leave a comment!


End file.
